Shamelessly Sassy Superheroes!
by Senbei x Cup Ramen
Summary: "So Lucy, I'll get straight to the point. Why do you want to be a superhero?"
1. Verbal Diarrhoea is the Way to Success

**A/N: **Howdy ho readers of the world! This is Cup Ramen signing in and posting her first *gasp* Fairy Tail fanfic! Hurrah! Now we have two major works being worked on! But please mind, I _do _originally play the editor role so my writing level for fictional works for this fandom is a bit . . . like a rusty tin can man. Welp without further ado, I present to you, 'Shamelessly Sassy Superheroes!". *I'm throwing confetti in the air people, throwing confetti*.

**Side note:** A great thanks to Senbei for the inspiration and help! I don't know where I'd be without Senbei *Cries out the Nile river like a pro.*

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><p><strong>Title: Shamelessly Sassy Superheroes!<strong>

**Chapter 1: Verbal Diarrhoea is the Way to Success**

It was exactly the 15th second after the 59th minute of the 20th hour on a Friday night and Lucy Heartfilia found herself in one of the most notorious criminal hotspots of New Pork - which ironically, the 'Statue of Justice' presided over. To be precise, she was sitting on a dirty set of steps on the side of the street, a scrunched up note in her clammy hand and her eyes, boring holes into her wrist watch.

To be fair, this wasn't exactly the _ideal_ meeting place for a job interview (or what seemed to be one) and for some awkward yet understandable reason, Lucy was genuinely regretting her lack of a charged and ready-to-zap Taser or bottle of pepper spray. She shifted uncomfortably on the cracked and cold steps - her rear was in need of a cushion, and quick fast.

"So, you're here for the interview, am I correct?"

_A woman's voice?_

Lucy peered up (after a quick and unnerving jolt), meeting eyes with a white-haired, cerulean-eyed lady - who by the way was exceedingly pretty. And by 'pretty', it meant that if Lucy were to suddenly gender-bend for life, she'd probably hit on the girl and go into her 'hot-diggity-damn-insert-wink-wink' mode.

The girl sat down beside her, clipboard and pen in tow, and smiled after receiving a series of nods and head-bobs from a rather embarrassed and nervous blonde.

_Best first impression ever Lucy._

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Mirajane, the dispatched interviewer for the agency," she spoke, gesturing for Lucy to introduce herself.

"T-the pleasure is mine. I'm Lucy, Lucy Heartfilia."

_Dagnabbit, I think I just caught the stutter-bug!_

And in the midst of Lucy's self-narration, Mirajane smiled and proceeded to speak.

"I'm actually quite impressed that you noticed the hidden anagrams I planted in the newspaper Lucy!"

"Oh you flatter me, Mirajane. It's all in a hard day's worth of work." Had she taken the haughtiness too far? She wasn't about to let it slip that she had found it on a whim while face-desking at her work station.

"Well matters aside Lucy, I'll get straight to the point since I don't like beating around the bush. Why do you want to be a superhero?"

_Fudgeeeeee. Didn't take her to be the straightforward type. That, and why is she giving me this sparkly-sparkly expectant look? Is this supposed to be the moment I use my serious blockbuster movie voice and proclaim that I came unprepared?_

Lucy silently choked on her spit before tensely giving her reply_._

"B-because it's cool and the costumes are also cool?" It ended up more or less as a question rather than a statement and she inwardly cursed at her suddenly restricted vocabulary and brainpower. Which holy being's wrath had she incurred _this _time? If she had the chance, she would have knelt on the ground and stared at the sky with a pained and betrayed look but she knew better than to publicly humiliate herself.

Noticing Mirajane's 'yes-please-go-on' expression, Lucy continued on with her vocal and literary gymnastics of an answer while staring at the bent and flickering lamp post behind said interviewer (only because the sparks the burnt moths were giving off were pretty and _not_ because they seemed to be a literal representation of her current situation and eventual demise).

"I like to help people. Like old grannies who need to get across the road and cats who stupidly get stuck in 10 metre tall trees . . . And well you know, I couldn't possibly have the chance to do all that with my current day job as a magazine article writer."

She paused for a moment, smiled like a Botox patient while batting her eyelashes, and glanced at Mirajane, secretly waiting for the 'okay that's fine' look to appear. It never did. So she resumed her train-wrecked reply, spouting nonsensical reasons which would probably incur more pity (for her intellectual state and mental capacity) than understanding.

" — and that was the last time I ever wanted to act as a bystander. Since then I've really been admiring superheros like Titania and uh Salamander. They're the perfect role models around for kids and everything, y'know?"

Titania aside, the Salamander? Really, Lucy, really? Declaring an abrupt and completely false admiration for the infamous 'Town Demolisher' for the sake of brownie points probably wasn't the best idea. That and Inner Lucy was violently ripping out her hair, regretting the lack of a 'mission abort' button. Deciding there was no turning back, she continued to roll out words (that she didn't even know were true) like a broken ticket machine.

". . .And I totally just saw the newspaper and job offer and that's why I'm here right now."

She made sure to end the rant with a finale-esque line. Not even trying to hide her panting after talking about a string of random events, Lucy looked over at Mirajane, prepared for the worst that life would dish out to her. For the remainder of the ten second silence, comic-like images of planet Earth judgingly shouting, "Lucy you fool! This is what you get for lying to such a schweet-as-lollipops Mirajane!", while handing her a platter of materialized failure flashed before Lucy's eyes.

In the midst of wondering if she was clinically insane, Lucy was met with a trembling voice.

"T-that was so touching Lucy," Mirajane whimpered as she wiped away a stray tear and offered a sweet smile before scribbling some neat yet indecipherable cursive onto her clip-boarded paper.

_Exactly what was so touching about my speech, Mirajane? I don't even _—

Stopping Lucy's train of thought, Mirajane stood up, patted down her now-dirty skirt and bent down slightly to put a reassuring hand on Lucy's shoulder.

"That was the most detailed and passionate interview I have ever had and I really do hope you land the job," she proceeded to hand a form and pen to Lucy, "Just fill out this form and you'll be notified of the results in a week's time via mail. Oh, and before I forget, the letter should have a distinctive mark on it to assure authenticity."

Needless to say, a myriad of thoughts were running through Lucy's head as she filled in the form.

_I'm willing to bet that this was your first ever interview. That and aren't you the one who decides whether or not to hire me?_

A short five minutes was enough for Lucy to complete the sheet and bid farewell to Mirajane.

After Mirajane excused herself, sprinting to the nearest dark (and potentially dangerous) alleyway, Lucy got up from the not-so-spick-and-span steps and dusted off the dirt from her chino coloured capri pants, groaning when she realised that her attempt to do so had failed horribly, instead, creating smudges of 50 shades of grey across the back of her pants. Wonderful. A second look back at the steps showed one fresh ass imprint, namely hers, probably from the muck her pants had wiped off.

"Wait, wait, wait — my ass isn't _that_ big, right?" She continued to stare at the clear-as-day imprint while circling the steps for another two minutes before reasoning on closer inspection that the shadows from the lamp light exaggerated its overall size - probably as much as her day job boss exaggerated his gossip articles (and that's quite a bit, mind you).

Realizing that it probably wasn't such a good idea to dawdle in the streets at this time of the night, she decided that sprinting (like an Olympic athlete) to the nearest taxi would be her best option unless she wanted to be her co-worker's next hot topic - 'Fellow Writer Brutally Murdered in Criminal Hotspot of New Pork'.

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><p>It had only been five minutes after getting into the taxi (after a seven minute mad dash) and the silence was so awkward that Lucy felt somewhat obligated to say something or at least play it cool (like the actors and actresses in movies). She looked out the taxi window, propping her chin onto her hand and sighed (like an actress) before falling into her 15 minute thought session.<p>

_Hmmmm. . .I think I just achieved the 'epic fail' level for that interview. So long for a second job to pay the bills. No, no, no, Lucy. Think _positive_. At least you'll still have time to play video games, lounge around, and shit whenever you need to. . . right? _

_I mean, it was just an act of impulse anyway even if Levy fully supported the notion. It was a decision made in absolute haste and recklessness - like a one night stand. And one night stands always have consequences (like in those dramas where the heroine hits a small bump along the way, literally)._

_Plus, the whole offer _was _pretty dubious and for the love of God I need to pee. . . GODAMMIT I WANT THE JOB._

Realizing after a long while that she was dealing her HP bar some fatal blows Lucy decided to cast the thought of failure aside. She found herself happier than ever to flop onto her bed after a nice warm shower once she reached 'home, sweet home' as she called it. Her weariness from the day's events hit her all at once like lead weights and she soon found herself in the land of rainbows, unicorns, and all things shiny.

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><p>Meanwhile, in a house more centre of the city was a very happy and excited Mirajane on the phone.<p>

"Master Makarov I think I've found ourselves a new superhero in the making! I'll send you a copy of the documents via pigeon! I can just picture her climbing up the superhero caste, making a name for herself, cape flapping behind her back while she stands atop a skyscraper, and someday, proud wife of a co-superhero. " Mirajane sighed dreamily, revelling in her deadly and infamous match-making hobby and completely unaware that Makarov had hung up on her.

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><p><strong>AN: **Ohmygod please stop throwing rocks at me. I'm legit a fragile glass flower that could break any moment! *Insert queue sparkly eye moment*. (Weeping like a willow) I made a deal with Senbei whose updates are lacking that I'd post this up once she updates. I'm legit an editor, baiting the author by hanging a prize over her head. You know, like the horse and carrots. . . Please read and review and don't hesitate to give constructive criticism. Just no flaming please! Or else I'll dibby dob you into Senbei *snotty brat moment*! I've read over this chapter over ten times and now it just looks like . . .words . . . in a block. . . whyyyyyyyyy?! My heart be breaking! I will love you forever if you read and review *HINT HINT NUDGE NUDGE*.


	2. When the Boss is a Slangwhanging Lard

**A/N: **Hey there bewdiful readers *insert queue cheesy smile*. Presenting to you, the second chapter of SSS! TADAAAA! Oh yes, before I forget, this is Cup Ramen, not Senbei :3 ! Thank you for all the reviews! If I could, I would send you gifts and shiz but uh make do with some digital cookies for now.  
>I also realized that I forgot to put a disclaimer last time! *GASP*<p>

**Disclaimer:** Let's face it, if I owned Fairy Tail then the recent manga chapters probably wouldn't have a billion half-naked characters waltzing around. *My eyes be burning but I still love Mashima-sensei!*

**Replies to Review:**Thanks for all the positive reviews! I still haven't replied to some of them yet - which I will get to after posting up this chappie!

To Nalu fan: S-s-superpowers?! But Lucy's still such a noob *hangs head in shame*. . . BUT there will be superpowers in the near future!

**Side note:**

I actually had this chapter rotting in the depths of my fanfiction folder for eons *shock horror*. Look at all these spiderwebs *points*! For those following the UFO fanfiction, an update will be out soon (for reasons that will be explained later). Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Title: Shamelessly Sassy Superheroes<strong>

**Chapter 2: When the Boss is a Slangwhanging Fat Lard**

It had been exactly one week after what Lucy would casually refer to as the 'extremely fishy and possibly-a-fraud superhero interview' and for the next hour, she would be rooted to her office swivel chair, confined in a prison she called work. She groaned inwardly, glancing at her boss, Hammond Bacon, who was seated a mere 3 metres away at the corner of the office.

"One little donut, two little donuts, three little donuts." Said man counted his box of donuts aloud in what Lucy could only describe as the seediest baby voice _ever._

She shuddered like a frozen 8-bit character and proceeded to (warily) scratch her itchy bum in annoyance.

"Oh my lordy lord! How could I have forgotten!" Bacon let out a manly squeal, directing his beady eyes towards Lucy.

_Oh fudge. Why's the potato on sticks looking this way. Look away Lucy, look away._

It was too late — Lucy suddenly felt like a deer caught in headlights and then road kill when her morbidly obese boss proceeded to let out a string of words.

"The deadline for your article was rescheduled to be," he paused and shuffled through some files on his desk, clicking his fingers in victory when he found the right one, "exactly half an hour." Bacon let out a snort, praising himself for the close-shave moment. "Whelp Lucy, wouldn't _you _have been a goner without your trusty boss; _me_. Seems like _I _just saved a certain someone by the hair of their chinny chin chin."

If not for Lucy's bewdiful strength of mind and fight over flight response, she would have dropped dead to the ground (like a fly) then and there. The next half hour saw a fanatical Lucy button-mashing her computer and running around the office like a headless chicken. After submitting the due article, Lucy lifelessly returned to her desk, sinking into her chair like a broken and tangled slinky. She turned to her side, facing her blue-haired desk neighbour after burying her head into her folded arms.

" Levy, is it just me or are those letters on your desk multiplying by the day?" Lucy half-gestured at the pile of open letters, making note of the childish scribbles (or drawings) on each page. "I wish _I _had a niece who'd send me letters."

"Pshaw! Having a niece isn't _that_ great Lu-chan. She's a bit too clingy and scheming for my liking you see." Levy smiled sheepishly and proceeded to exchange some words with her co-workers.

"Levy. . .Did you just make a bet with John about whether or not I'd make the deadline in time?"

"Yep! And I'll be glad to let you know that _I_ just won myself 20 bucks!" Noticing Lucy's current resemblance to a pale and shrivelled up prune, the blunette proceeded to dig out a ten dollar note, tucking it into Lucy's handbag. "I'll split half-half."

"You know Levy, the boss . . . he'd make a perfect stranger. Remember that time he let out a ripper fart and blamed it on John?" The blonde glanced over at Bacon, grimacing as he devoured his 20th donut within two hours.

"Oh come on Lu-chan. He's not _that _bad. He's a pretty nice guy minus his work ethics."

"Levy. . . He called me fat in front of my crush last year." She shuddered from the mentally-scarring memory and proceeded to slowly pack her bags, ready to bolt home at the speed of light.

"Okay well he's just bit insensitive I guess. But you know, he's the type to uh get to places." Levy pulled a thumbs-up pose, securing her messenger bag diagonally across her shoulder.

Another ten seconds till home time. Lucy was definitely ready to bolt and when the second hand struck twelve, bolt she did (though not before declaring to Levy that Bacon would probably go the farthest when a cupcake's dangling in front of his beady eyes).

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><p>Lucy practically chicken-danced her way down the (crowded) street in glee as she basked in the joy of a two day emancipation from work. For the rest of the way home, she found herself singing Disney's 'It's a Whole New World' while receiving awkward stares and silent whispers from bystanders. Curious kids would point and ask their mums and dads what she was doing - not that Lucy particularly cared or anything.<p>

"Mummy, why's that lady singing so horribly?" One child pointed.  
>"Shhh don't point at her - that's what you call the tone-deaf disease."<p>

Well that one shut her up. No more public singing for Lucy.

She galloped to her apartment door, keys jangling merrily in her hands. _Home sweet home._ She paused when her eyes landed on a pretty beige-coloured envelope with a visible red wax seal — it was tucked nicely into her letter slot.

"Holy mother of god. That looks like one hell of an extravagant bill paper. I'm doomed. So, so doomed!" Lucy knelt at the doorstep of her ajar door, disbelief in her eyes.

"I knew it. I shouldn't have signed that dubious-looking contract Bacon gave me two days ago!" She cried (like a broken-hearted girl), newfound hatred for her piggish boss.

Closer inspection of the letter revealed otherwise.

_Recipient: Miss Lucy Heartfilia_

_Sender: Fairy Tail Superhero Agency_

Noticing the sender, Lucy stopped bawling and let out a relieved sigh whilst feeling somewhat guilty towards Bacon for maligning him.

"Oh thank god. It was the other dubious contract I signed last week."

She made her way into her apartment, packing away her belongings like a homeless drunk while suspiciously sending nervous glances at the letter sitting atop her kitchen counter. After a nice long bath Lucy readied herself to open the letter - the anxiety was nipping away at her like a vicious piranha and she could legitimately feel an oncoming 'paper bag moment'. Just opening the letter seemed to be a hard task - sure she most likely failed the interview, but the lavishness of the document screamed 'use a letter knife'! So like a peasant trying to imitate the posh, Lucy grabbed her nifty survival knife (hey it was close enough) and ripped and tore the envelope to shreds. _Perfect._

_Dear Miss Lucy Heartfilia,_

_The Fairy Tail Superhero Agency, FTSA for short (or if you prefer, SAFT or maybe even FAST), is happy to notify you of your PASSING (Well done!) result in relation to the interview you took last week on Friday. You are now a fledgling Superhero! Hurrah! The Superhero work system will be explained to you by your assigned mission provider, Mirajane, within half an hour of the opening of this letter._

_Regards, STAF._

Lucy stared long and hard at the literary disgrace before her. Was this the real deal? Remembering Mirajane's caution for phony letters, Lucy scanned the paper for a 'seal of authenticity', only to find a somewhat cute scribble on the bottom left of the letter. She couldn't tell if it was an otter or a monkey but it sure damn looked familiar (She'd have to question Levy about her 'niece' later). Lucy crinkled her nose when she saw an 'I'm authentic' note beside the doodle. Was this the seal of authenticity?

_Oh man this is pretty shady business Lucy._

She scratched her head, a bit like a confused monkey, stopping when her doorbell rung. The blonde questioned her own sanity as she walked to unlock the door without a baseball bat in tow.

_Click._

"Hello Lucy!" There, at the other side of the door was a positively cheerful Mirajane, dressed in simple office attire. Her smile shone like a 1000W light bulb, blinding Lucy's chestnut orbs.

"Holy mother of —! Oh it's just you Mirajane! Don't scare me like that." She proceeded to usher the girl in, slightly irked that she was so casual about this. But Lucy had swiftly decided that she would hop on board Mirajane's sailboat and go with the flow.  
>(Girls and boys, please don't try this at home. Beware of stranger danger!)<p>

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><p>Seated on adjacent sofas in Lucy's lounge room, the two girls sat in complete silence, staring at one another with friendly smiles on each other's faces.<p>

Lucy shifted in her seat before plucking up the courage to ask Mirajane for some much-needed answers.

"Say, Mirajane. . .You're uh really pretty." Lucy mentally bitch slapped herself for her seedy-dude comment.

"Awww, that's so nice of you Lucy! You're so cute." Mirajane's smile had boosted to 2000W.

For some unknown reason, Lucy felt compelled to return that 2000W smile, only to feel like her teeth were about to fall out one by one from the fake smiling.

_Why, Lucy, why are you such a wimp? Answers, Lucy, you need answers. . . And guts too. _

Mustering up the much-needed guts that she oh-so-needed-but-lacked, Lucy made a temporary level-up to her 'Spartan warrior chick' mode and began to speak.

"So . . . Mirajane. About the explanation you're supposed to give me?" And just like the first time they met, this turned out as a question rather than statement. So long for the 'Spartan warrior chick' mode.

"Oh! That's right! I nearly forgot. Silly me!"

_Say whatttttttttttt _—

That internal monologue was cut short when the white-haired girl handed another letter that she had dug out from her purse to Lucy. Needless to say, it felt somewhat intimidating to open and read the letter in front of somebody else - Lucy found herself strangely self-conscious.

'What if I accidentally rip the letter inside as well? Holy moly she's staring at me with those expectant eyes again. I'm so sorry for not having an actual letter knife!' Such thoughts were swimming through her head. The anxiety was killing the blonde - sweating bullets? Check. Nervous shaking? Check.

In all honesty, they would have sat there in utter silence for another ten minutes if not for a sudden hand spasm which effectively ripped the envelope open. Peering at the contents of the opened envelope, Lucy cautiously unfolded the letter and began to read.

_Superhero System and Policies for Dummies_

_In the midst of the constant evolution of technologies, extension of human knowledge and research, and growing population in the city of New Pork, there has been an associated rise in criminal activity. Government forces such as the police and other criminal investigative and prevention agencies have been deemed insufficient in the fight against unlawful acts. As such, a number of highly advanced and largely funded agencies have been established as of 2050, 25 years ago. These agencies systematically select and hire candidates qualified to undertake the role of a superhero and assign missions of various ranks to said employees. Depending on the overall ability of a superhero to prevent crime and protect the community, wage levels, mission difficulty, and fame will vary. Once a fledgling superhero is recognised by the community, a voting poll will be conducted to decide on the official name/ID of said individual. The issue of personal identity i.e. 'day life profile' amongst superheroes may be dealt with differently depending on the wishes of said individual. Superheroes who wish to keep their identities hidden may invest in costumes, especially headgear, to prevent others from recognising their features. The Fairy Tail Agency allows a point system wherein an individual's performance for any mission of a given rank is evaluated. Depending on mission rank, the maximum points allowed will vary. Inefficiency and or destruction of public property during or associated with the assigned mission will decrease the net points received. Points may be used to redeem unique items such as manoeuvre gear, specialised costumes, and exclusive equipment. Fledgling superheros will not be provided with any costumes, specialised equipment (with exception of a communication device) and have no official name until they are promoted. Each superhero has their own agent who will provide them with necessary information, privacy protection and so on. It should be noted that information for missions are acquired by agencies through paid affiliates known as 'Archivers' who have the ability and/or position to obtain such information. Also, it is of great importance that individuals recognise that various and different factors are considered depending on the background of each mission. For this reason, prerequisites for undertaking a mission exist. Examples may include the requirement of a superhero party (consisting three to four superheroes) to undertake a mission etc. For further enquiries please consult your agent. Good luck!_

After carefully reading over the guide, Lucy directed her focus onto Mirajane.

"Uh Mirajane. I don't mean to offend you or the agency or anything but . . . was there really a need to separately enclose the letters and to even send you over to my house?" She looked sceptically at said woman only to find her sweating bullets.

"So any questions Lucy?"

Mirajane had expressly taken the 'immediately ignore Lucy's statement' route. She dug into her purse once again, retrieving from it, a small black box.

"Before I forget, Lucy, take this. It's the communication device mentioned in the guide. It comes in various forms like watches and earpieces and so on but to make matters simpler, I just chose the earring version lest you misplace it."

She handed the box to Lucy, watching till the latter had switched out her old earrings with the light pink studs.

"Perfect! Now you're a fully fledged noob fledgling Lucy. Congratulations!" Mirajane smiled happily as she offered her not-so-flattering comment and subsequent applause.

"Uh thanks Mirajane. One question before I let you leave though. How . . . exactly do I complete these missions? I don't exactly have any superpowers per se."

"Oh Lucy! Always thinking ahead. Don't worry! Fledgling missions are on a different level from superhero missions. You can worry about superpowers once you get promoted." Mirajane clapped her hands together and proceeded to walk out the door and wish Lucy good night. Was Lucy going crazy when she expected Mirajane to leave via the window with an umbrella like Mary Poppins?

Left alone in the comfort of her own house, Lucy began to absorb the information before cackling madly like the wicked witch of the west and proclaiming for all her neighbours to hear, "I'M GOING TO BE A SUPERHERO!"

Good bye privacy protection, the noob just spilled the beans. At least she passed for a psycho rather than a _real_ superhero.

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><p><strong>AN: **HOW DID YOU LIKE IT? My eyes are shining, like really shining . . . searching desperately for reviews *shifty eyes*. But jokes aside, I have a . . .serious matter to discuss with you readers *insert dead serious tone*. What . . . is your take on plagiarizers? Like you know, people who steal ideas without giving credit to the original idea-makers? It's a bit like stealing candy from a baby you see. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD THE BABY HAD TO CRY TO GET THAT CANDY? DO YOU? Okay, bad comparison. An author (no names) has recently 'favourited' the UFO fanfic that Senbei has been writing up and coincidentally posted a story of similar . . . background. The result? Aside from them receiving awesome feedback and all . . . I now have an emotionally-crippled Senbei on my hands and my bitch-editor switch has been flipped. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY YEARS WE'VE PLANNED THAT FANFIC TOGETHER? DO YOU? My knuckles are cracking, my veins are popping, and lasers are shooting out of my eyes. I see red, I see red, I see red. GODZILLAAAA CUP RAMEN.

Anywho, look forward to updates!


	3. Wart-nosed Witches and 'L,O,V,E' Keys

**A/N: **Hey guyzzzz *waves creepily*! This is Cup Ramen signing in. This chapter is actually quite long so . . . have fun reading! Also, I was going to make an honorable mention to Valentine's Day *dun dun dun dun* as a passing comment in the chapter but I realized that it would totally screw up the (still undecided) timeline sequence in terms of months so I didn't. *laughs at noobness*. Thanks to all the reviewers, favourite-ers and followers as well!

**Disclaimer: **I _still_ don't own Fairy Tail. Not even in the wildest imaginations of my lala land dreams.

**Replies to Guest Reviews:**

Tawny:

I'm so glad you enjoyed the read! And it's so mega-ly schweet of you to say that :'D

I WOULD BLANKET THE BOOK IN SIGNATURES (so much so its unreadable) for you! MUAHAHAHA. And thanks for the hot chocolate although the heat is killing me at the moment *melting like the wicked witch of the west*! I hope you enjoy this chapter too because my fingers really nearly fell off from all the typing *cries*. I have so many awesome things planned and all these lines I need to use but alas, they can only be used once Natsu makes an appearance *shot*

Guest:

OhMyGod! You think my Lucy is cute?! My eyes are sparkling like . . . uh sparking fountain water (say whattt). My Lucy (I say 'my' because all FF writer's characters exude a different air hueeee) is so . . . goofy, airheaded, and (hopefully) loveable. *Proud face* And because you love my fic, I love you too :'D

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><p><strong>Title: Shamelessly Sassy Superheroes!<strong>

**Chapter 3: Wart-nosed Witches and 'l,o,v,e' Keys  
><strong>

To: Lucy H.  
>From: Mira S.<br>Subject: Mission I

Details of job are as listed below.

Goal: Expose Madame Shammazel's fraudulent fortune telling business.  
>Location: Shop 287, Charlatan Rd.<br>Deadline: One week.

P.s. Good luck!

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><p>It had been 5 minutes since receiving this text from Mirajane and Lucy found herself pulling a face no man would ever want to marry. It was an actual job. A mission. A SUPERHERO (fledgling) mission. Was this a dream? She pulled on a lock of Levy's wavy hair, clarifying that it was in fact reality when she heard a pitiful 'owwwwww' from her desk neighbour and bestie. Reality sank in and Lucy was convinced that the whole superhero thing was not a delusion caused by work-related stress.<p>

"LEVY! It's my first job! My debut as a noob!" Lucy excitedly nudged Levy as the latter proceeded to choke on her tea.

"Mhmm. And that explains why I've been the pitiful victim of your barrage of assaults for the past ten minutes?"

Lucy spared the blunette an apologetic look before attacking her with the cuteness of her puppy dog eyes. "B-b-but you never told me you were an archiver even though you're my BFFL Levy."

"BFFL? Since when did you turn into the resident tween Lu-chan? Do you see the unimpressed expression I'm pulling right now? _Do you_? And besides, it's not like you ever asked me about it anyway."

"But you told me the letters on your desk were from your niece," Lucy deadpanned.

"Okay. You got me there. But what else was I meant to say? That the letters on my desk were from Mirajane who wanted to coax me into selling her information for cheap by drawing pansies and monkeys everywhere?"

"Point taken."

The two girls sighed as their Boss (Hammond Bacon anyone?) 'covertly' squinted his already beady eyes in their direction despite it being lunch time.

Levy hovered her eyes over Lucy's text message, wincing at the mention of 'Madame Shammazel'.

"Anyhow, good luck on the mission Lu-chan. I think you need it, no offense. That Madame Shammazel's the new hype amongst young females, namely people of our age group. That, and she reeks of perfume - dodgy and cheap perfume."

Lucy gave Levy a knowing look, "I heard you and John were assigned to cover an article on her last month. . . Does she have a mole on her nose? Because I'm seriously imagining some purple-fied lady with heavy makeup and a mole on her nose."

Levy returned her question with a funny look. "No, but she has a wart on her nose if that helps?"

"Hmmmm. . ." Lucy stroked her imaginary beard, "Wouldn't that make her a witch instead?" And when her question was immediately ignored she figured that her neglected (and incomplete) article was in more need of her attention than Levy. She'd begin her mission tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"285, 286 . . . 287! Found it! Shop 287, Charlatan rd." Lucy peered into the so-called fortune telling shop, catching a glimpse of thick ribbons of royal purple fabric strewn against the walls and below the ceiling of the shop interior. Loopy golden words indicating the store name were painted shabbily onto the window. The blonde crinkled her nose, cracked her knuckles, and reached into her <em>Louise Kitten<em> handbag, grabbing out what seemed to be a custom-made (slash tacky) masquerade mask. Golden and peach-coloured sequins embellished said mask and two blue feathers were clumsily glued to the right upper corner. Lucy carefully put on the headpiece, afraid that the cheap elastic strap would slap her in the face. The sad lack of agency support for fledgling costumes meant that she had a chance to showcase her baby-level art skills but for now this would have to make do. Lucy stared at her reflection in the window - white office blouse? Check. Black pencil skirt? Check. Heels? Double check. Headgear? Check. What could she say? She was a walking fashion disaster (or just a creep).

Deciding it was high time to commence 'operation infiltration', Lucy strutted into the store like a boss only to sit in the 'waiting line chair' as the sign had indicated. She scratched her head like a monkey while re-reading the information that Levy had kindly jotted down for her this morning and sighed.

Alias: Madame Shammazel  
>Real Name: Berry de Shammer<br>Age: 56  
>History: Married five times, divorced three times (<em>Say whaaaaat? Is this even legal?<em> )  
>Occupation: 'Fortune teller'<p>

"Now how in the world am I meant to uncover her shammy-ness? Oh boy." Lucy slumped in her seat, feeling like a fish (wearing a sparkly mask) in the wide, wide ocean.

Okay, so she had the information but no plan. Great. Best planning skills ever Lucy. To begin with, 'operation infiltration' was just a title for playing the client and for the most part, Lucy would have to count on her impromptu acting and fast thinking to get anything done at all. Diving in head first suddenly didn't seem like such a smart idea and as if reflecting her mood, the feathers on her mask drooped like sad sunflowers.

The 15 minute wait was over and the walk to the consultation room felt like a death march. Lucy walked into the cramped and incense-filled room, sitting down onto the chair across from Madame Shammazel who was only separated from her by a small round table. The concept of being in the same room as her target irked her and she found herself admiring the tablecloth and the crystal orb upon it while twiddling her thumbs.

_Dammit Lucy why are you acting like such a wussy pants? _

"So, you are ze child who seeks my guidance, are you not?"

She was pulled back to reality by a deep and heavily accented voice. Looking up to face the woman, Lucy drank in her . . . _unique_ features. Which cake store had _she_ visited? Lucy was pretty sure that someone was mean enough the cake-smash the lady's face. Said blonde took a long hard stare at the woman's nose; or more specifically, the wart on her nose and nodded to herself as if confirming the lady's identity. Shammazel's (horribly) slanted almond-shaped eyes narrowed, creating a mass of wrinkles to form on her forehead and between her brows in a domino effect. She surveyed Lucy (who by the way was convinced the nose wart had her hypnotised) like a pig carcass up for sale and fell into her fortune-teller persona in full-swing.

She pulled one of the most terrifying faces Lucy had ever seen and hummed a cryptic chant as she looked into Lucy's otherwise scared and confused orbs.

"Lrig yllis siht loof s'tel mon mo yenom yenom!"

_What in the name of -_

Lucy had to admit that this hag was a professional phoney. She'd never seen something as hideous as the expression she had just pulled. Upturned and squinty blue eyes coupled with thin purple lips and a dash of insanity - the physics of it was impossible; it'd send even Einstein rolling in his grave.

The hag's sagging (love handle) arms flew into the air before dramatically encircling the crystal orb and in a heartbeat she started half-shrieking and half-speaking like a banshee.

"Oh deary, deary me! You poor, poor girl! Zis is terrible! I look into ze crystal and your luck, I zee none!"

_It speaks!_

"Uhm. . . excuse me?" Lucy raised her brows, feeling offended that she had been labelled as a luckless person.

"Zis - your love life iz dead iz it not?" The lady's stare bore holes into Lucy's face while her words stabbed the blonde's heart more than she would have thought possible.

_She was right. Her love life was dead. Was it so obvious? _Lucy cried inwardly, and if she had a voodoo doll, she'd use it against the hag for reminding her of her spinsterhood at 23 years of age. She should have noticed it — how dead and non-existent her own love life was. Maybe the heavens were trying to tell her something last week when the 'l, o, v, e' keys on her computer simultaneously fell out. Lucy was effectively lost in her self-pitying reverie as the lady proceeded to mention whatnots about some love goddess, donations for help, and Lucy's eventual 'crazy cat lady' life. And it was at that moment that something within the blonde snapped. She was no sissy pants when it came down to it and being lectured by a three-time divorcee and swindler about her love life hit a nerve. Godzilla mode had been activated.

Maintaining her composure and mustering the brightest smile she could, Lucy cut into the lady's rant.

"You're a sham." At that very moment, all signs of the blonde's sanity and patience were thrown out of the window. She was legitimately waving goodbye to 'plan infiltration', welcoming instead with open arms 'plan do whatever'.

"Excuzez-moi?" Last time Lucy checked, Shammazel wasn't French. The lady was clearly flustered, if not offended by the blonde's accusation.

"I said you're a sham." Seeing Shammazel's blank stare, Lucy continued proudly, "I'm happily married with two children. That and I'm the heiress of a large-scale company." She proceeded to imitate _Juste in Beaver_'s infamous hair flick, regretting it when a clump of hair got stuck in between the sequins of her mask. That's right. Lucy was still clad in her homemade superhero mask and Shammer didn't seem to even care. Instead, the hag gaped like a fish and Lucy felt her nose grow two inches. It took a real man (or woman) to lie about marriage and kids.

Seeing as Shammer had no intention of responding any time soon, Lucy felt inclined to continue her charade. Her (fledgling) superhero senses were tingling (or so she'd like to have thought) and she had personally decided that this was the 'make it or break it' moment.

"And I'd like to have you know that I have substantial evidence of your fraudulent actions." She paused for a second, authority oozing from her cruel gaze, before whipping out a brown and suspiciously thick envelope.

Shammer gasped, eyes clearly trained and hovering over the red-stamped text along said document. That's right. An overly enthusiastic Lucy had taken the time and money to buy an A4-sized stamp reading 'EVIDENCE' and stamp it diagonally across an envelope she had filled with random papers and junk mail. 'Plan bullshat' had officially commenced and unbeknownst to the shocked 'fortune teller', the fledgling superhero was legitimately shitting bricks and breaking into cold sweat while executing said plan.

* * *

><p>Next minute, she had Berry de Shammer grovelling at her feet begging for mercy. Did this woman have stale noodles for a brain? Ignoring Shammer's lack of intellect and common sense, Lucy made a swift dial to 777, nodding in approval at herself in recognition of her first legitimate call to the emergency services (because this time it totally wasn't a prank call). In her lasting moment of pride and glory Lucy also took the time to spam-text Levy who was supposedly enjoying lunch at a cafe five minutes away 'to come over and totally check out the wart-nosed criminal'. She continued her text marathon, fingers mashing the phone screen like an unhealthy Smartphone addict. Standing a good metre away from Lucy was Shammer whose hands were bound behind her back with some rope that the latter had conveniently packed.<p>

_So bored. So, so bored._

Lucy paced back and forth, awaiting the arrival of both Levy and the police while babysitting Shammer, bursting out in a fearful fit of smiles when the blunette arrived.

Moments later, the approaching call of police sirens littered the otherwise quiet shopping district much to Levy and Lucy's delight. The relief that rushed through the blonde once Shammer was officially arrested was unfortunately short-lived when a (strangely) familiar red-haired lady clad in officer attire stepped out of the police car. Said lady marched towards Lucy and co in a militaristic fashion and the blonde could only gape like a fish in dire need of oxygen.

_You have got to be kidding me. That red hair, those sharp eyes, her height and profile in general . . . it couldn't be -_

Her thoughts were cut short when the redhead spoke. The latter's otherwise stern eyes softened when they landed on the blunette.

"Levy! Long time no see!"

_Wait. What? What? What? They _know_ each other? _

Lucy could only stare at the two as they engaged in light chatter, feeling the full awkwardness of being a third wheel. Was this totally that situation that she'd always read about on internet memes? 'That awkward moment your friend bumps into their friend and doesn't introduce you'. She shifted slightly in her place, feeling somewhat self-conscious and neglected (not that she'd admit to it).

_Nope, nope, nope. I'm not feeling unloved or anything. And this prickly sensation in my chest? That's totally not loneliness I'm feeling. It's just a heart condition that I should probably get checked out. And the sinking feeling in my stomach? I'm probably constipated (again). _

"Nice to make your acquaintance, I'm officer Erza Scarlet from the local police beat." Erza's rigid self-introduction stopped Lucy's train of thought, catching the full attention of said blonde.

Feeling the need to introduce herself at the acknowledgement of her presence, the blonde nervously spoke, "I'm Lucy, Lucy Heartfilia."

_Shortest introduction ever._

Erza nodded in approval and continued, "Thanks to your efforts as a dedicated member of the general public, Lucy, we've been able to warrant an arrest for Berry de Shammer. You have my gratitude and respect." She extended her hand for a handshake, capturing one of Lucy's clammy hands in a tight and bone-crushing grip. The rigidity and NPC-ness of her speech slightly irked Lucy.

"T-the pleasure's mine." It was difficult, but Lucy managed to cough out a few words without crying in pain. Was this woman a human equivalent to the colossal titan?

Much to Lucy's delight, the redhead's grip loosened as she watched her colleagues drive away, criminal in tow. For a moment, Lucy just stood awkwardly on the side of the road, half-holding hands with Erza while sending 'save my soul' signals to Levy who was conveniently one foot farther from the redhead than Lucy.

* * *

><p>Was feeling out of place and wanting to shit bricks the theme for the day? Lucy couldn't help but straggle behind Levy and Erza as the two conversed. She'd known something felt out of place when Erza saluted her colleagues as they sent Shammer to the police beat. Why . . . Why had she not accompanied them too? It was at that very moment, Lucy recalled, that the redhead announced she was 'off duty for the day' and proposed to 'go and eat cake at a cafe <span>together<span>'. _Together? God no. Nope, nope, nope._ But Lucy's courage meter for the day had officially been exhausted and was officially red hot in the negatives.

_Weather forecast for tonight? Gloomy._

She most likely resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame as she continued to waft behind the group but that was the least of her worries. Why? Because never in her life did she dream of eating cake with Titania. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. Erza was the spitting image, inside and out of said superhero. But for now, the blonde would feign ignorance - according to Levy, Erza was and still is convinced that her superhero 'disguise' was foolproof. Apparently no one bothered to point it out and Lucy instantly decided that she wouldn't be that someone.

By the time they reached their destination, it was six in the evening. Lucy found herself seated (reluctantly) in a small Parisian-styled cafe. The exhaustion that she had amassed during the day made her feel like a despondent potato. To boot, she was literally wedged in the corner seat of the four man table rendering any escape routes to the toilet virtually impossible.

_Ah whelp. Worst case scenario, I pee in my pants. _Sanity gone.

So, for the next hour, Lucy hogged half of Levy's seat space as she half-sat and half-lay like a beached whale, making some amount of effort to put her two cents into the conversation. A good portion of her time was spent staring vacantly at the rose-print infested wallpapers and many oil lamps. Obviously whoever built the place had an unhealthy obsession for flowers, laces, and all things fancy-schmancy. She exhausted the remaining ten minutes of the outing day-dreaming about home and when home time actually came, she guilt-tripped so bad and felt like the biggest lady-jerk in the whole of New Pork. Why? Because Levy and Erza had presented her with an expensive looking diary that they had bought earlier while she was busy being an ignorant hunchback.

"G-guys, I don't know what to say. You really didn't have to. I mean, I don't deserve this." Her voice shook a little as she held the memoir in her hands, clenching it closer to her chest. Droplets of newly-formed tears prickled at her dry, sleep deprived eyes as she continued to speak. "I've been the most unenthusiastic and ungracious piece of shat today and, you know, I'm just so touched that you'd bother to get me this. This . . . really means a lot to me but I don't think I have the right to accept it. I'm too undeserving of your kindness." She let out a grotesque sniffle, sucking up the snot that came with the tears like a vacuum cleaner.

"Lu-chan," The blunette spoke up before the blonde's self-deprecating monologue could continue, "It _really_ becomes burdensome when you get all emotional on us." She deadpanned the last part while she placed a seemingly reassuring (but not really) hand on Lucy's shoulder. Erza nodded in silent agreement and a saner part of Lucy's mind questioned the condition of her own social circle.

"And plus, you could use this to record your achievements to come, Miss Fledgling Superhero." Levy nudged her shoulder playfully as her sniffles began to cease. She could only half nod in reply. That's when Erza decided to pipe in, offering her two cents to the seemingly moving (but not really) moment.

"That's right. It's useful to record your superhero missions so you can keep track of your work history." For some reason, Erza's input oozed of authority and common sense. _Behold, the sole (yet most unlikely) voice of reason in this whacked up conversation._

"Thanks guys. I'll be sure to write in it." The blond then directed her gaze to Erza, smiling before she spoke, "Erza, I know we've only met today but I feel like we can become great friends." Did her relationship points and social circle variety just level up or what? Despite the emotive mood, Lucy couldn't help but feel that something was _off. Terribly, horribly, undeniably off._

"Wait. . . Erza. . . How do you know that I'm a fledgling superhero?" She tried not to sound incredibly dumbfounded by the realisation but still failed horribly. It was only when Levy and Erza pointed towards Lucy's reflection in the shop window that realisation hit her like a hard and heavy brick. The mask. There it was in it's not-so-aesthetically appealing glory; her horribly tacky, sequin-embedded, feather-adorned masquerade mask, still sitting on what the blonde would consider half her face. Great. Cover blown. Just. Like. That.

"O-oh."

* * *

><p>By the time the blonde arrived home it was already nine - in other words, <em>way<em> past bedtime, especially since she had work tomorrow. _Some good ol' quality time with Hammond Bacon. Great. _The blonde eyed the leather-covered diary on her desk as she prepared to slip into bed. Then began the great debate.

"To write . . . or _not_ to write? Now that is the question." She furrowed her brows as her gaze switched from the bed to the book and back.

"Nope, nope, nope, I have work tomorrow and I _need_ the sleep." Betraying her monologue, she looked back hesitantly at the diary, sitting a mere two metres away on her desk.

". . . Okay . . . A _little_ bit of record-taking wouldn't hurt and plus, today's events are still fresh in my mind. And I know better than anyone else that I have _the_ worst case of goldfish memory _ever._"

Sadly, a 'little bit of record-taking' became one straight hour of writing like a crazed novelist. By crazed novelist, I mean, total bat-shit crazy scribbling of words (a bit like Light in Death Note). By the time she had finished writing, she didn't even have the energy to walk to her bed, instead settling on becoming an extremely inefficient human slime, wriggling across the cold hard floor to reach the bed.

Unbeknownst to the now-asleep blonde, who was actually quite proud of accomplishing her first mission, Mirajane was smiling happily at home, already planning a 'mission schedule' that would no doubt send her to hell and back (a few times).

* * *

><p><em>Dear Diary,<em>

_Today marks the completion of my first ever mission as a fledgling superhero. I'll have to admit, I didn't actually expect to be able to get Berry de Shammer turning herself in on the very first day but I'll have to owe it to beginner's luck. The amount of times I felt like shitting bricks was uncountable and inconceivable. Hopefully that won't be the case next time though. Looking back, there were probably a multitude of better and different ways I could have gone about it. Strangely enough, I feel like I've paid back the debt to those who were (unfortunately) scammed by Shammer and I get butterflies in my stomach knowing that I've prevented any more victims. On the more pensive side of things, it really makes me wonder what a 'superhero' is. It's probably something I will come to understand and realize as I go along. _

_I also met Titania today - her real name's Erza Scarlet and she seems to be a rather cool superhero-senpai *smiles*. Only if you're on her good side though. Apparently Levy already knew her from wayyyyy back. Makes me wonder if she knows other superheroes too. _

_From now on I'll probably meet a lot of new people and it makes me nervous and somewhat scared knowing that these people could probably burn, freeze, fry, and electrocute me to death if they ever felt like it. I better not get on their bad sides *nervous laughter*. Well, despite all the negatives, I can _kind of_ see myself helping lots of people too - which is a plus. Is it just for my self-satisfaction? I don't know. And really? Is this seriously taking me a whole hour to write? My writing is almost indecipherable. I don't think I even need to lock this thing. Not like anyone would actually come over anyway. What is this? All of a sudden I feel like a loner. *Crying silently in corner of room*. _

- Lucy Heartfilia

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

SO HOW WAS IT? Did you like it? Did you hate it? (Please tell me in your lovely reviews because I'm really greedy and all.)

Did you guys totally see all my references to other anime and societal media shiz? Like . . . Justin Bieber (why did I even?), Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin, Death Note etc?

And did anyone decipher what Berry de Shammer was chanting? *nudge nudge* Comment in the reviews! (I'm so pathetic but oh well) I need the most motivation I can get before uni starts up again (in two weeks time) so yehhhhhh. Or I'll just disappear off the face of FF for a while (really?).

And I hope you guys don't mind that Natsu hasn't appeared yet . . . I kinddd of mentioned him . . . maybe in the diary entry (?). I want some Lucy character growth first off. But we're actually pretty close to the (very awesome) meeting between Lucy and Natsu. *Thumbs up*. I promise.

- Love you all! Cup Ramennnnnnnnnnnnnn *Flying away into distance*


	4. When Lucy Becomes Internet Famous

**A/N: **-Squints eyes- _"Last updated Feb 19, 2014." _Oh. . . dear.

Would a cheesy smile, a bag of lollies, 30 packets of chips and lots of sparkles suffice for an apology? Yes? GOOD. Yay! Now I'm forgiven! But yeh I guess life got in the way . . . Ohohoho. But seriously, you would not know how many times I've re-written and changed this chapter. I think I'm more satisfied with how it turned out now than I could've been with previous versions so I guess that's a plus? Right? Thank you for all your reviews! I really appreciate them and sadly, I haven't had the chance to reply to the non-account ones because I usually include them in the A/N . . . and to have an A/N I need a new chapter. . . so uh yeh.

**Disclaimer: **With all this shizzles that's been going on in FT I really can't say I'm the mastermind behind it all now can I? Boohoohoo.

**Replies to Reviews:**

Guest (Feb 20 2014): Hello! I wonder if you still keep tabs on this ffic though ahahaha. I'm SUPER glad you liked it and oh boy, your review is so schweet! The references though . . . Did you spot them all?! Lucy and Natsu will be meeting very soon! Proud to report that I've been acing uni like a pro! Muahahaha.

Tawny (Feb 21 2014): TAWNYYYY You've nearly deciphered it! Do you use the phrase "om nom nom"? *HINT* Very happy you like my Lucy! Ohohoho! It's winter now over here so I will accept that 1+ year old hot chocolate! Thank you!

Guest (May 9 2014): I'm happy you like the story! What are you talking about? Lucy is ALWAYS PWETTY. I guess it's a bit difficult to include appearance descriptors without it sounding forced but I have included some in the ending of this chapter! Enjoy!

Guest (June 8 2014) & ft shipr (Oct 26 2014): I have updated kids! READ!

Smidget (March 18 2015): It has been blasted away! Now hand me your golds and treasures little miss pirate!

* * *

><p><strong>Title: Shamelessly Sassy Superheroes<strong>

**Chapter 4: When Lucy becomes internet famous **

Maybe it wasn't such a flash idea to take a trip to the petrol station slash convenience store at a time too dark to be called 'safe' because now, Lucy was stuck in a kind-of-maybe life-threatening situation. At least she wasn't alone though – she was accompanied by an 80-something year old granny, a high school girl who seemed to be unhealthily obsessed with her Smartphone, one fatigued office worker and a trainee cashier who was probably about to piss his pants. Wonderful. Perhaps it was some kind of fate that had led to the gathering of what Lucy guessed to be the more unfortunate and vulnerable bracket of New Pork.

Her mind did a mini flashback to probably around five minutes ago when she was just happily at the back aisle of the store, marvelling at the range of chip flavours available, unaware that her Friday night would be ruined moments later by some dim-witted and loopy robber.

And now, Lucy found herself clinging and plastering to the aisle shelves and magazine racks as she very slowly made her way to the front of the store as per the demands of aforementioned robber. Stealth probably wasn't working very well for her.

"God dammit," she hissed to no one in particular as her winter coat became caught on a shelving hook. It seemed to take a while for her to actually reach the store lobby and maybe it was out of habit but she slapped on her (masquerade) superhero mask for good measure. For a second there it looked like she actually had a plan.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the robber loudly and hastily yelled at them to "sit down and get on the ground". _Say what? _Was this guy stupid or _stupid_? Nevertheless, everyone obliged because they were scared but mainly because he was armed with a gun that he waved about carelessly in his hands.

Lucy managed a half-sitting, half-squatting position near a stack of giant candy canes (probably from last Christmas) that were on quick sale while the other hostages shakily got to the ground. The robber didn't spare his hostages a single glance as his gaze shifted to the store clerk but if he did, he would've noticed that everyone in the store was breaking out in cold sweat and half-way there to a panic attack. The cashier was probably in his late teens or early twenties, but a university student no doubt. And on closer inspection, his name was Tom – his 'Hi I'm a trainee and my name is TOM' name tag made it quite clear too. The robber crinkled his nose at the young man in front of him, separated only by a glass barrier that the latter prayed to be bulletproof.

"Hey kid, hand over the cash unless you want a hole through your head," the older man drew the gun closer to the cashier – it was probably a good metre away from the latter's face. And that was when Tom started to frantically press any available key on the cash register in hopes of keeping his life and brains intact. Thus began his struggle with the cash register – he almost looked like a senior teacher trying to operate the computer in class. It wasn't a pretty sight. The struggle was real. The other hostages looked on in fear and horror and when over five minutes had passed it was clear that the robber had lost his patience with the young clerk. And that was when Lucy knew she had to make her move if she even had one.

* * *

><p>"Hold it!" Everyone's gaze had effectively turned to the old granny who had brazenly intercepted what may have been Tom's final moments. Lucy's potential moment had just been stolen. <em>Sweet<em>.

"And what do _you_ want you old crone?" The robber clearly had no respect for the elderly.

"While it may be true that," the granny squinted a little at the cashier's name tag before proceeding, "young Tom here is struggling with the cash register, he's still only a trainee. As his customers – nay, seniors in life, it is our duty to be patient and give him another chance!"

_Did she just do a fist pump? _Everyone just gawked at her as she held the robber's attention. Her speech lasted another five minutes before the robber begrudgingly agreed to give Tom more time. Nobody had really noticed, with the exception of Lucy, that during the long lecture, Tom had actually located the fabled red button under the counter and was pressing it like a madman. Moreover, a small crowd was actually gathering up outside of the store. Yeah, usually, something really fishy is going on when you see a man clad in black, holding the clerk at gunpoint from outside the store.

While they had managed to successfully stall the holdup, the robber was maybe actually really losing a grip on his sanity. Perhaps he felt that he was losing the upper hand in the situation – being lectured and bested by a frail senior and not being able to smear his grubby palms over a good wad of cash were probably contributing factors. So he decided, against whatever possible better judgement he held at the time, to fire a shot at the ceiling.

_Bang._

Smoke drifted in the air and the smell of burnt gunpowder wafted throughout the store. Silence befell them until the man began lashing out at said hostages, throwing at them a barrage of nonsensical threats - something about making them eat dirt and run marathons. But Lucy didn't register a single word that escaped his mouth. The sound of her heart beating erratically at her chest seemed to override his yells and she could almost hear herself gulp in spite of her parched throat. Her otherwise fashion faux pas mask seemed to offer her some sort of comfort while her palms were sweaty, cold, and not to mention, shaky. Yes, Lucy Heartfilia was more or less trembling in fear and it was mostly because she had no idea what to do - that and she could somehow imagine a holier-than-thou-should-be version of herself laying on the floor like a ragdoll that had been assaulted with tomato sauce.

She had already been a superhero fledgling for a solid four months but never, and I repeat, _never_, had she encountered a situation like this. This wasn't like the time she had to look for Mary's cat nor the time she had to retrieve little Jim's soccer ball from the tree. Shammazel was ten times less dangerous than this guy and most likely 100 times saner too. All the 37 or so missions she had done thus far seemed so inconsequential compared to _this_ where she would potentially be responsible for the lives of three other innocents. _Shit_. _Shit. Shit._ As if swearing could help now of all times.

'_Oh god I wish I was Erza_,' she thought internally to herself. How had she even landed herself in this situation to begin with? Oh right, 'cause she wanted chips. For the love of whatever saintly entity out there, _why?_ This was almost like an action movie scene except there was no impending sense of relief that a hero would magically appear to save the day. Sure, she was a superhero fledgling but this was different from a movie. She didn't have guaranteed safety and neither did her fellow hostages. There would be no more stalling because the granny's screen time had already partially ended. The robber was a loon and smoke was still wisping out from his gun. And the hole in the ceiling? She couldn't even see it. And that was when it all clicked.

The gun was a fake. _Maybe._ Suddenly she regretted not studying up on guns but it was too late now and that was the only hope she had. It was do or die. The police didn't seem to be showing up yet and Tom was seriously looking dishevelled from the button-mashing he had been occupied with. Poor Tom. It was time for Lucy to hopefully save the day.

Perhaps it was because the robber was armed and she wasn't, but the giant candy canes at her side suddenly seemed like the perfect lethal weapon on hand. Yeah, desperate times called for desperate measures. Bracing herself, Lucy discretely stood up from her sitting position and equipped herself with said weapon. She cleared her throat a little, readying herself for the impending exchange between her and the crook.

"Hey baldie! Drop your weapons and surrender before I beat the living daylights out of you!" Lucy waited for a response to her shounen protagonist speech as she held the candy cane towards him in the most threatening manner she could think of. Everyone else just gasped while the high school girl attempted to sneak in a shot of Lucy's moment of valour to be posted up later on her Fritter account because that would like totally make her internet famous.

The man, in turn, drew his gun towards her instead of Tom and gave her a dirty look.

"I'm not friggin' bald you shitty cosplayer!"

"I'm not a cosplayer! I'm a superhero (fledgling) god dammit you beached whale!" Yeah, she seriously didn't feel like being insulted by some half-wit who hadn't even had the decency or common sense to cover his face when carrying out a robbery.

Okay, maybe she shouldn't have said that because now he was totally aiming the gun at her too-pretty-to-be-shot face.

"I'm sure your mother in the countryside wouldn't be too happy about this! Think of how heartbroken she'd be!" The beauty of Japanese police drama speeches - but seriously she was running out of ideas.

"My ma's in jail," he snorted while maintaining his 'I'll just go ahead and shoot a hole through your head' pose.

_The gun is a fake. The gun is a fake. The gun is a fake. Holy bejeezus the gun better be fake! _

Lucy's inner military officer told her to take up arms and charge in like the bravest (mainly reckless) war soldier ever and that she did. The candy cane would become her trusty sword in this upcoming battle - at least that was the plan. Unfortunately, her plan all but failed on her when she realized she had completely overlooked something vital. Sure, the giant candy canes were on quick sale because Christmas was long gone - but that wasn't the main reason. They were damaged goods. Almost immediately after she directed the candy at the robber, it resembled fancy striped walking cane as the shattered regions at the tip conformed to gravity. _Quadruple shit._

* * *

><p>The silence that followed seriously wasn't reassuring and Lucy was pretty sure the baldie was wearing a disgustingly smug look on his face. More like, he totally didn't take her as a threat anymore because he just snickered at her. He actually <em>snickered <em>at _her_. She _definitely _wasn't screwed over enough to warrant this...right? RIGHT? Was this what it felt like to be unjustly regarded as a weakling? It made her feel like a paper bag full of poop that had been set alight outside someone's house only to be put out by the oncoming rain.

The man's focus on her seemed to fade and that was the one thing she had to prevent. She had to divert his attention from the other hostages at all costs - if she could hold out till the police arrived then that was enough.

She wasn't going to let any meathead hurt others or steal money under _her _nose. God it'd be so much easier if she was capable of beating him to a pulp like a piñata without having to face the legal and moral repercussions. Apparently tough times brought out the worst and darker sides of the blonde.

While Lucy had been somewhat distracted by her dark train of thought, the robber had all but lost interest in her - he was a man with a mission (for money) and he was no sadist (maybe). By the time the blonde had noticed, he had already turned away from her and was headed towards Tom. _This was bad_. _Like really bad_. She didn't even have the time to swear like a sailor in her head - rather, she opted to dig in her coat pockets for some sort of miracle. No, really - she literally _never_ takes anything out of her coat pockets (minus snotty tissues) and she was silently praying that her keys or pocketknife were sitting snugly in said pockets and not her handbag which lay lifeless on the floor of the snack section. Hey, who was to say the robber wouldn't rob the hostages too?

Anyhow, it wasn't long before she felt the coldness of the holy metal stick known as a key in her fingers. _Sweet holy mother of something_. She had read somewhere that a key, wedged between the base of her fingers could act like a blade if she punched hard enough. Suddenly, the situation didn't seem so hopeless anymore but then came the second thoughts.

Was she seriously going to stab baldie in the back with her keys? Heck, she didn't even know if he was going to lunge for an attack at anyone and it's not exactly as if she's defending herself. She simulated the possible outcomes in her head and maybe around 99.99% of them weren't looking so flash. For starters, she'd become the legit offender and secondly, a failed attempt might actually provoke _him_ to attack. Thirdly, she had just realised that her potential weapon was in fact her diary key. It was approximately two centimetres long and would most likely snap on impact. _Eh shit._ So in reality the option to attack him with a key wasn't even there.

With that said, she was still totally desperate for a solution so she kept searching - searching into the depths of her coat pockets, hoping to find something aside from lint and she did. _Bingo._ The box of Wally Winker's ultimate gobstoppers that Levy had forcefully given her would become her saviour - _maybe._ At the very least, she knew the box corners were hard enough to make her ass ache after sitting on them for so long. She concentrated all her strength into her arm and strengthened her grip on said box before hurling it like an ace pitcher at the baldie's back. It all happened in slow motion. The hostages eyes were trained onto the purple box as it was in mid-flight, their mouths slightly agape and heads tilting slightly as it made a beeline towards the robber. _Plonk_. The box dropped like a fly upon impact with its target, scattering its contents across the tiled floor and everyone gulped. The room was deathly silent save for the sound of gobstoppers that rolled around like glass marbles. Lucy could literally feel the anger that seeped from baldie's figure. Was this all a very big mistake? Not even the immense trepidation felt by the hostages in the room could stop time as they watched the man turn around, gloved fists clenched like the schoolyard's biggest and baddest bully before he landed a punch.

Nope, nope, nope. This could _not_ be happening. Lucy tried to stop herself from edging back in fear as she realized just how close the robber was to her. Maybe her sense of distance had gone awry during the whole confrontation. As the seconds ticked away she could feel his shadow loom over her and she seriously thought she'd be crushed like an ant - and that wasn't quite far from the truth. Within moments, she felt the hard impact of his sweaty forehead on _hers_ and an accompanying '_clonk'_ was audible before he fell to her side and landed on the floor. Apparently gobstoppers rivalled even the most slippery of bath soaps and banana peels on the floor.

* * *

><p><em>"God the world sure is wonky today"<em>, Lucy groggily thought to herself as she watched the pretty red and blue disco lights dance off the walls. Techno music was all the rage nowadays because that's all that seemed to be blaring in the background. Honestly it was giving her a headache. She dazedly picked herself up from the cold hard floor, walking over to some random place to retrieve what looked to be her handbag. _What was she even doing here_? She didn't even have the energy to apologize for gatecrashing some random's party but home sounded like a pretty comfortable place to be at the moment. She continued to trudge forward to what looked like the exit before bumping into a familiar scarlet-haired lady.

"Erza?!" Lucy did a double take.

"Lucy! You're finally conscious! I was going to call the ambulance but it seems you're fine now. Does it hurt anywhere? What happened? No wait, you don't have to reply, we've got enough eyewitness reports so maybe you should head home. Mirajane is worried sick about you! Do you have a car? Or do you need me to call a taxi for you?" Erza continued her worried rant, not realizing that Lucy was staring off into space like a despondent potato as she attempted to regained her bearings.

The blonde had a short moment of realization as she noticed that this was no disco party - more like, she was at the petrol station and the police had arrived. The unconscious robber was being transported out to the police car by officers in a wheeling trolley and a crowd was clearly encircling the outside of the petrol station. How long had she been out cold? What even _happened_ after she went out cold? She had a billion nervous thoughts and questions swimming around in her head and absolutely no answers - and that seriously bugged her.

"Erza?"

"Yes, Lucy?"

"Did...Did anyone die?" Lucy worriedly (and very cutely) quirked her head to the side, shifting her chocolate orbs to her feet.

"Lucy I think you should head home. I'll take care of it here and Mirajane will keep you updated. The taxi's waiting outside and try not to get crushed by the crowd." Erza proceeded to usher Lucy outside, convinced the blonde needed a good long rest.

"Roger that Erza."

* * *

><p>For some reason or another, simply trying to exit said petrol station proved to be a majorly difficult task. There were probably just over 30 bystanders crowded around the automated doors of the station, all armed with their $1000 Smartphones and trying to sneak a shot of the so-called 'crime scene'. Jesus, the power of social networking and desire for short-term internet fame never ceased to amaze Lucy. The blonde tried to ignore the flashes of camera lights directed at her and the police as she pushed her way through the crowd, resisting the urge to hurl every single mobile phone in the vicinity into the far reaches of the Earth.<p>

_God, these egocentric, big-headed vultures who devote half their lives to internet pixels. They're even worse than the bloody paparazzi. _

The blonde secretly hoped that the lights reflected by her mask would blind the suckers. Relief washed over her though as a yellow taxi came into view. The faux leather seats in the vehicle felt like heaven against her sore back and stiff rear as she literally sank into the cushiony goodness it had to offer. Once she had hit home, enjoyed a nice warm bath and slinked into bed, the night's commotion seemed strangely distant. Lucy didn't even have enough energy to write a diary entry but she was pretty damn sure she'd remember the details anyway. Work obligations could wait till tomorrow anyway since Mirajane was popping by in the morning to get this shit sorted out. Lucy soon drifted to sleep, lamenting over the fact that she didn't even get to buy any chips for what was supposed to be movie night.

* * *

><p><em>Ding Dong. Ding Dong Ding Dong! DING DONG! <em>

Lucy tried to muffle the sounds of her doorbell as she covered her ears with her pillow. It must've been Mirajane who was enthusiastically assaulting her doorbell.

"Cominggggggg," the blonde groaned tiredly as she made her way to the door.

"LUCY! YOU'RE INTERNET FAMOUS!" Mirajane literally threw herself into the apartment as she shoved her tablet into said person's unsuspecting face.

Lucy's eye's skimmed the list of headlines and she immediately felt like hurling herself off the nearest cliff.

"BREAKING NEWS: BOMBSHELL BLONDE DETAINS ARMED ROBBER IN LOCAL PETROL STATION!"

"WHO IS THE BLONDE? CATASTROPHE AVERTED!"

"'SHE SAVED MY LIFE,' CLAIMS HIGH SCHOOL GIRL!"

. . . And the list went on.

"Mirajane. . ." Lucy's voice sounded lifeless and dull.

"Yes, Lucy?"

"Go buy me 30 packets of chips please."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

So, did you like it? Did you hate it? Please review! But no flames please ohohoho.

I would just like to apologize for my tardiness! And I'm pretty sure I told some reviewers that Lucy and Natsu would meet in this chapter but that has been postponed till...next time heehee!

I didn't want to overload it with developments. I wanted a good pacing with this story so you will find that there will be time lapses between chapters.

Lucy has now completed plenty of minor missions after the Shammazel incident and I've made note of it in this chapter~ I just didn't want to detail every itty bit of information!

Thanks again for all the encouragement and feedback! Honestly, the recent reviews really did spur me to patch up and complete this chapter! Love you all!

- Cup Ramen xoxo !


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